


I'll Take Care Of You

by Smahahah



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin's Helmet Stays on During Sex, First Time, Grief/Mourning, Grinding, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Single Parent Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Virgin Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smahahah/pseuds/Smahahah
Summary: Din returns to Tattooine after the Jedi take Grogu.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	I'll Take Care Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Dar'manda: A Non-Mandalorian or a Mandalorian ignorant of their culture; considered soulless by Mandalorians
> 
> Manda: Mandalorian afterlife, where all Mandalorian souls join in a collective after death

Every so often, Din thinks about Tattooine. More specifically, a tiny town in the middle of the Tattooine desert, the almost uninhabitable Mos Pelgo. And to be unbearably exact, Din thinks of the Marshal of that tiny desert town on Tattooine, Cobb Vanth. 

Din isn't entirely sure what to do when his thoughts drift to the Marshal. Very few people have stuck with him in this way before. Cara, maybe, but he considers her a friend. Vanth is something different. Not quite a friend, but not quite… well, Din's not certain what else he could be. 

He doesn't really have a lot of friends, anyway. 

The kid yawns, disrupting Din's musings. 

"You're right, you should get some sleep. You're up past your bedtime." He flicks a few switches and sets the ship to keep on it's course, then gets up to take the kid to bed. 

The child usually sleeps in a hammock above Din's own bed, but Din doesn't feel the need for sleep quite yet. He sets the kid on the bed instead of in the hammock and tucks him in. 

"Goodnight, kid." He smiles underneath his helmet.

The kid buries himself in the nest of blankets and falls asleep almost instantly.

Din puts down the divider that separates the small sleeping pod from the rest of the ship and returns to the cockpit. 

The ship is still on course, and his thoughts soon return to the Marshal of Mos Pelgo, despite his best efforts. 

When Din closes his eyes, he can picture the man's slightly crooked smile. 

His face heats up behind his beskar. 

What is happening to him? He hasn't felt like this since…. Well, ever. The closest he can compare the feeling to is the adrenaline rush after combat, but that doesn't make any sense. He bears no ill will towards Vanth, and certainly no desire to fight him. 

It's only when the heat moves lower does he realize what's going on. 

Din's eyes spring open and his entire body tenses. 

"Oh no," he mumbles to himself. 

He suddenly feels exposed, even alone on the flight deck, fully covered by his beskar. 

This can't happen. Mandalorians don't form romantic or sexual bonds, especially with dar'manda. 

Maybe it's not forbidden, technically, but it is strongly discouraged. A dar'manda would not be able to join him as part of the Manda when they die. 

He stands suddenly. Why is he even thinking about that? It's just — hormones? He's been alone for a long time. He cannot be held responsible for private thoughts in the safety of his own ship. 

But… he is alone. 

And he cannot be held responsible for private thoughts in the safety of his own ship. 

He sinks back into his chair. 

Din hardly even realizes that he's taking off his armor until half of it is already on the floor. 

He feels entirely on display despite his helmet and flight suit staying in place. It has zippers for a reason. 

The gloves come off last. Din hasn't felt the touch of another person on his bare skin in years, and he has certainly neglected any gentle touch directed at himself, sexual or not. 

"Ah—" Din's quiet modulated voice echoes through the cockpit. He's very glad it has a door. 

Try as he might to keep his mind blank, Vanth keeps appearing. And everytime he does, Din lets out another soft moan. 

He stops fighting it. 

Din squeezes his eyes closed and presses his back into the chair. His hips are moving on their own, faster and faster. 

He imagines it's Vanth touching him, and he can't hold himself back. 

"Nnh-" Din gasps for breath. "Oh…" 

He opens his eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling for a long moment. 

"Dank Farrik…" he mutters. This will not end well for him, he knows it. 

———————————————————

When Din next becomes overwhelmed with thoughts of Marshal Vanth, it is much more innocent. He and the kid have cracked open some ration packs and spread out on the floor of the ship. 

He can tell the kid, Grogu, he reminds himself, is getting antsy, cooped up in the Razor Crest all the time. Din knows that feeling well, so it's nice to break the conformity sometimes by doing things like sitting on the floor to eat on their way to Tython. 

Well, Din doesn't eat. He doesn't take off his helmet in front of the child. He once again allows his mind to wander while the kid eats his fill. 

Last time he had a hot meal was just outside Mos Pelgo, sitting around a fire with Tuskens and the Marshal. A strange place to long for, Din knows, but he can't help it. He isn't just missing the food, but strangely Vanth as well. 

He sighs softly, causing the kid to look up from his Polystarch. 

Grogu holds out a piece, offering it to Din. 

Din smiles, "No, that's for you, thank you though." 

The little alien takes another bite, still staring at Din with big eyes. 

"What?" 

The kid says nothing, of course. 

"Don't look at me like that. It makes me think you're reading my mind." 

He blinks and then goes back to his food. 

"You're not reading my mind, are you?" 

Grogu is too busy eating to acknowledge Din. 

He watches him for a moment. The kid really did like the Marshal…. Maybe he would like to see him again.

Maybe. 

———————————————————

And then the child is taken from him.

The Darktroopers descend from the Light Cruiser and steal the child away. 

Din's thoughts don't wander at all after that. 

He has one goal, and one goal only. 

Get Grogu back. 

———————————————————

They save Grogu. 

Grogu goes with the Jedi. 

Din has completed his mission. He has returned Grogu to his own kind. He's safe. 

So why does Din feel so empty? 

Grogu is gone. He is alone again. A clan of one.

Din, Cara, and Fennec rejoin Fett on the Slave I, Moff Gideon in tow. He is now in the custody of Marshal Dune. 

"Take us to Navarro," Cara tells Fett. 

"Tattooine," Din speaks without thinking, something he doesn't do very often. "I'm going to Tattooine." 

Cara frowns. "Tattooine? What are you doing there?" 

Din takes a shaky breath, hoping his voice modulator doesn't pick it up. "I have to see someone." 

———————————————————

Fett leaves Din in Mos Eisley. He would normally go to Peli, but these are not normal circumstances. Instead, he rents a speeder from an unfriendly Klatoonian and starts on his way to Mos Pelgo. 

The bag at his hip feels empty. 

He arrives at Mos Pelgo just before the second sun sets. 

He leaves the speeder at the edge of town and walks towards the Marshal's home. 

"Mando!" 

Din turns to the side, hand going to his gun instinctively. 

"Relax, it's just me." Cobb Vanth steps out of the shadows, wiping grease off his hands. He must've been fixing something. "What are you doing here?" 

Din feels like his body is sinking into the sand. "The…. The kid is gone." 

Vanth's eyes go wide. "He's gone?" 

"The Jedi took him. He's with his own kind now." His voice breaks. 

"Mando, I'm so sorry…" 

Din turns away. He knows Vanth can't see his face, but doesn't want to look at him either. 

"Come inside. You need a good meal and some sleep." 

Din follows the Marshal into the house. 

"I have some meat cooking now, I can get some bread too. That alright?" 

Din nods silently. 

"Go ahead and sit down." 

He does, watching Vanth move about the small kitchen. It's finally beginning to sink in what's happened. 

Din's breathing is ragged. 

"Hey, Mando? You doing okay?" Vanth sets down his knife. 

Din doesn't answer. 

The Marshal gently places his hand on Din's shoulder. "Mando?"

"Din." He bites out. 

"What's that?"

"My name is Din." 

"Good to meet you, Din." Vanth smiles crookedly. "Seems like you need some rest. Bedroom's this way, you can take that helmet off." 

"I can't-" 

"I know, I know. Not in front of me, don't worry. I'll stay out here." 

"But-" 

"Don't argue, Mando. Din," he corrects himself. "You're really gonna turn down a night on a real bed?" 

"...Thank you." 

"'S nothing. Now get, I gotta finish dinner. I'll save some for when you wake up." He pushes Din in the direction of the bedroom. 

Din closes the bedroom door behind him. 

He takes off his body armor first, the cuisses from his thighs, the vambraces from his arms. His breastplate and pauldrons. Off come his boots and his cloak, leaving him in just his flight suit and helmet. 

He sets the beskar on the dresser and, with a moment of hesitation, sets his helmet next to it. 

Vanth is right, he needs rest. He lays down. He hadn't realized how exhausted he is. 

Din is asleep in moments. 

———————————————————

When he wakes, it's pitch black outside. 

He sits up with a start, groaning as his body protests. "Dank Farrik…" 

He rubs his face and slowly gets out of bed. He's starving. He grabs his helmet from the dresser and opens the bedroom door.

There's a fire going in the main room, and Din can see the Marshal dozing in an armchair. He feels awful for taking over his room. As he walks into the kitchen, a note on the counter catches his attention. 

MANDO DIN,

Dinner for you in oven .  
Eat in bedroom, I won't look .

—COBB

Din smiles a bit. He takes the plate out of the oven, trying to be as quiet as possible so not to disturb Vanth. He can't remember the last time someone took care of him, it makes his whole body feel warm. 

Vanth wakes up as Din closes the oven. 

"Mh- Din?" 

"I didn't mean to wake you." 

"'S okay. You get your dinner?" He stands up, stretching. 

Din nods, gesturing to the plate. 

"Good, good." 

Din bites his tongue. He's never been the best at… talking. And his entire body is still hot, which he's not sure how to deal with. Last time this happened…. No, no, not thinking about that right now. Not with Vanth right in front of him.

"You can eat out here, if'ya want. I needa get in the 'fresher. Still got sand in my… everywhere." 

Din nods again, illogically praying that Vanth can't see through his helmet to his red face. 

"Alright then. I'll give ya ten minutes or so, sound good?" 

"Yes." He says, probably too quickly. 

Vanth eyes him for a second. He looks like he's about to say something, but then he simply nods at Din and heads down the short hallway to the bathroom. 

Din waits for the door to close before he sighs to himself. Stupid. 

How can he be thinking of Vanth, especially like that, at a time like this? It's just not right. 

Din isn't sure what he's supposed to be feeling. 

He eats his dinner and tries not to imagine Vanth in the shower. 

———————————————————

"Din?" Vanth calls as he opens the bathroom door. "You decent?" 

"...My helmet is on, if that's what you're asking." Din has finished his dinner and is now sitting by the fire.

"Ah good, just makin' sure." Vanth is dressed in sleeping clothes and his hair is still wet. Din can't look at him. 

"How're you feeling?" The Marshal sits next to him on the floor. 

Din doesn't know how to answer. He mostly feels… numb. 

"You're still… in shock?" 

"I'm not shocked. I knew he would have to go with the Jedi." 

"But not so soon." 

"Not so soon," Din repeats softly.

Vanth sets a hand on Din's un-armored shoulder, startling him. There's only one layer between their skin. 

"Marshal…" 

"Cobb," he says, "You let me call you by your name. Might as well call me mine." 

"Cobb." Din isn't normally one for first names, but this one feels nice. "I feel… nothing." 

"I understand," Vanth— Cobb tells him. "I'll be blunt with you, it's gonna get worse before it gets better." 

Din tears his gaze away from the fire to face Cobb. 

Cobb's hand slowly moves from Din's shoulder to his helmet. 

Din's breath catches and his body tenses, preparing to pull away. 

But Cobb does not try to lift his helmet. He just trails his thumb over the beskar, watching the reflected flames dance across it. 

Din's heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest. 

"Cobb, I-"

"You don't have to say anything." 

"Okay," he whispers. He doesn't even know what he would say. 

"I would be more than happy to distract you, if that's what you want." 

"I- I've never…" 

"Never?" 

"No." 

"Then maybe now isn't a good time." Cobb starts to pull his hand back, but Din catches his wrist. 

"I want to. But my helmet…" 

"You can keep it on. I don't mind." 

Din nods, swallowing hard. "Where should we…"

"'S usually more comfortable in the bedroom." Cobb takes Din's gloved hand, standing up. "You're alright, Din, don't gotta worry with me. I'll take care of you." 

No one's ever taken care of him before. 

Cobb gently pushes Din onto the bed. Din is more than willing to let him take the lead in this regard. 

He hopes his lack of experience won't cause any issues. 

Cobb unzips Din's flight suit down to his stomach. "You lemme know if you need me to stop, okay?" 

Din nods. 

"Need you to use your words there, partner." 

"Okay," Din repeats, his voice low. 

Cobb's hand goes to the back of Din's neck, slightly under his helmet. 

Din bares his neck, and Cobb kisses it. 

"Oh-" 

He can feel Cobb smiling against his skin. 

Din gasps when he feels a bite. 

"That okay?" Cobb mutters. 

"Yes." 

Din hooks his leg around the Marshal's waist, his hips canting upward. 

Cobb places his other hand on Din's hip, holding him still. There's a soft whine, and it takes Din a second to realize that it came from him. 

"Pace yourself, Mando." 

"Cobb…" he rocks his hips against Cobb. 

"You got no patience, do ya?" He kisses Din's neck again and pulls on his flight suit. "Take this off." 

Din sits up to follow orders, shrugging the suit off his shoulders. Cobb takes off his own shirt as well. 

Din's skin feels like it's burning under Cobb's touch. 

His whole body is on fire. 

He trails his hands over Cobb's chest and stomach, down to his waistband. He tugs at it, hoping that's enough for the Marshal to figure out what he wants. 

"Are you a top or bottom?" Cobb asks as he undoes the button on his pants. 

"Am I… what?" Din leaves his hands on Cobb's waist. 

"A giver or receiver." 

"Uh… I'm not quite clear-"

"You fuck or get fucked?" 

Din startles, his face turning red. "I don't know." 

"No worries, I can do either."

"I don't…" 

"We don't have to do nothing you don't wanna do." 

Din nods nervously. "Maybe… not that?" 

Cobb grins. "Still plenty'a ways to have fun."

That helps Din relax a little, although he's still a bit nervous. He needs this, he tells himself, he needs the distraction, the warmth.

Cobb grips Din's thigh and rocks against him, groaning softly. 

"Who's impatient now?" Din says, closing his eyes and matching Cobb's pace.

"You complainin'?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"'S what I thought." Cobb's hands are going to leave bruises on Din's hips. 

That thought is— overwhelming. 

"Wait, wait-" 

Cobb halts his movements. "What is it?"

"I need to stop." 

The Marshal moves away from Din. "What's wrong?" 

Din is breathing hard. "I, um… I can't…"

"Woah, woah, it's okay. We don't gotta do anything you don't want." Cobb hesitantly touches Din's shoulder, ready to pull back at the first sign of discomfort. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes. I should leave." Din stands up zipping his suit back up. He's so stupid. This was a terrible idea. He should've just stayed on the ship with Fett. He wouldn't be tempted to fuck Fett. Maybe. Probably. He doesn't actually know him that well, so he can't say definitively if he'd want to fuck him or not. He swears under his breath. 

"Woah there, partner, what's going on?" Cobb starts to button up his shirt. "You don't have to run away." 

"I have to. This is… I shouldn't have come. It was a moment of weakness." 

"Relax." He stands up. "Take a breath." 

Din looks at him.

"Please at least stay until tomorrow?" 

He sighs and nods. "Alright. Until tomorrow."


End file.
